


Familiar

by pandanare



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Blow Jobs, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 08:39:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandanare/pseuds/pandanare
Summary: A Kamasutra inspired one shot just for the fun of it!! This piece was an inspiration from a picture drawn by HannaBellLecter. In addition to two, count it two lemons, I've added some actual substance to this one, not just fluff. I've attached the link for the picture in the end of chapter notes, so check it out after you read!! Enjoy guys!





	Familiar

**Author's Note:**

> Ahem...Thanks to my dearest HannaBellLecter (and Akira Toriyama), I have another one shot in the books. This  was inspired by a piece drawn by Hannabell herself and I was beyond thrilled to do it. She's been so amazing to collaborate with and not only has her artwork inspired me, so has her upbeat attitude and positive disposition. I hope it lives up to the inspiration she gave me as it did drive me out of my comfort zone a little bit. Here's to you HannaBellLecter! I hope it goes the distance!!

                                         Slick with sweat  from another restless sleep, Bulma kicked  the damp  sheets from her bed with an irritated grouse  and condemned  them to nothing more than a plush pile on the floor. Lifting  herself out of bed, she  walked over to her vanity, studying  the reflection closely. She matted  down a few  stray hairs and wiped the  sleep out of her eyes while scrutinizing a barely noticeable crow's foot that was starting to form. "Never a dull moment around here.." she said unfazed  while viciously attacking her soft skin with moisturizer.  She walked over to her nightstand and picked up her phone moments  before an indistinguishable sound  guided her  towards her French  doors.

Her delicate feet carried her towards  her  balcony  and she welcomed the cool breeze against her perspiring skin with the pull of one handle.  She tried looking  around before gifting the  immersion of darkness with too many steps, but was ultimately limited by what  someone  would call her inferior human senses. Feeling brave, or just unconcerned, she reconciled summer  was meant to be enjoyed at night anyway and acquainted herself with the cooling effect of the chilled night  air.  Still sober for her solidarity, she gripped her phone tightly and headed towards the stone parabola she historically  befriended  when she sought safety... or consolation.

With her back against the handrail, any concerns of looming threats or boogeymen went the wayside as  she started scrolling through the memory bank that moonlighted  as a phone. There were a couple of  saved messages that managed to steal a few  laughs  and some old phone numbers that were quickly erased. She resisted delving further initially and began strumming her fingers against the banister after dropping her phone to her side. She brought one hand up to her mouth and nervously chewed on her thumbnail, weighing  the pros and cons of sating her psychological  sweet tooth.

But what were phones for if not sensationalized trips down memory lane?

There  were mostly just candid shots of the compound. Some from aerial views, others from inside her room. There were a few of her mother feeding her 'pets' and a picture  of her dad lolling his head after dozing off with comic strip still in hand.  She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of newly formed dew with a  small smile  before her thumb slid to the  next series of picture. The pictures that outfitted her fragile disposition with a raised white flag as she descended.

It was almost pleasant, albeit strange maybe?

Pleasantly strange remembering  things that she  forgot she  forgot about. Who all came solo and who brought a date.  Conversations that she couldn't quite place  how they started. The rhythm of the music, the decorations,  and  the way the food smelled. Even remembering, for future reference, which  drink concoctions had people on the floor and which were better in shooter form, thanks to a few grin-inducing  pictures.  But with each swipe, the descent gradually became steeper and steeper. The genuine tug at the corner of her lips started slinking downward at an even keel.

Did she really have that many platonic friends? Every picture she found herself in looked  more of that of a  personal ad for 'single, attractive female who is just one of the guys'.  And every picture she  _didn't_   find herself in was that of couples who seemed to thoroughly enjoy being in each other's company. Even pictures of  _him_  and whichever lady of the night he could pay enough to -- Bulma shook the thought out of her head while it was still premature, acknowledging it  was a mutual decision to part ways and  she harbored no ill feelings towards him. 

But even Yamcha was enjoying himself. And it was slightly peeving.  She did enjoy  some  of it she conceded,  but nothing that could be captured in a digital rendering. 

For some reason that  left a bad taste in her mouth...

So she let her deft fingers push  forward, attempting to find the most worthy moment to  breath some life into. Something that should be proud of itself for capturing a moment that can never be duplicated, only iterated but shamed because all it captured was less than a second of an entire lifetime. Something that proved she wasn’t just single use. 

And she knew the exact picture. The one that wouldn't hold up in  physical form due to the  relentless prodding and staring  she subjected it to. The one that forced her to be copacetic with the literal definition of insanity. The one she could give a name to.

She glossed over the muted  photo that probably knew her blood type but was met with unexpected results. This  Bulma, with the same  disheveled hair and the lackadaisically reassembled outfit she had previously seen,  told a different story.  Her rendered counterpart didn't look as crestfallen or flummoxed as she remembered. And she 'remembered' often . This woman   looked...healthy with afterglow.

A meager  smile graced her lips  for the first time in what could have quite  possibly been  weeks. She  started to question her reasoning for the dejected attitude she had been promoting lately, but her concerns were corroborated when she saw that date on the picture.  _'Ah. There it is. Three months and... nothing..'_

The speckled  remnants  of the timid  smile that remained were  lost altogether when she looked at the possessor of the frigid  shoulder beside her. It wasn't as if  she did anything wrong per se, so she tried to staunch the semblance of guilt that was approaching dangerous territory as she studied his expression and the way the scar on his face made him look even less warm. They might not have been together for some time, but it still pained her to hurt him. Even more so because she could empathize with his plight. 

He _was_  responsible for his death after all. But  the breakup had been mutual, regardless of what  the rumored circumstances insinuated.

There was a very noticeable shift in the atmosphere shortly after the gravity room accident. Bulma had somehow  become .. _more_.  More attentive to the niggling in the back of her mind now that there was another male on her property.  More  alert to the sirens that warn of  the slippery slope that comes with  dating the same person for a decade with no tangible commitment. More aware  that the relationship they  settled into  wasn't nourishing or healthy, only a series of  misread situations  halted  when one acquiesced to save face.

Were they even what the other needed in a partner? 

It seemed so at first. He was so shy, so innocent when it came to the opposite sex anyway.  But it was what she  needed. Bulma had no idea how to be a  girlfriend, much less a good one. She didn't know when it was acceptable to be selfish and when it was just hurtful. She didn't know when her expectations were reasonable and  when they were completely unjustified. Why would she?   Her life was  so different than any  other adolescent she knew. Her inquisitive nature  gave her all the tools she needed to be a child prodigy, but none to hone meaningful relationships with other flesh and blood. Especially romantic relationships.

She needed someone that was equally anorexic with the rigamarole of a relationship. And at the impressionable age of 16, she successfully picked the lowest hanging fruit. 

Yamcha had never had  _any_   relationship to speak of, save his furry companion. It just wasn't part of his basic needs as the  'desert bandit' he proclaimed to be. He was independent, intrepid and adventurous. There was just no need for anything outside of black and white thinking. At least not until he saw the finest shade of blue.  And while they couldn’t be further apart on the lineage spectrum, his  social ineptitude and her kludge of intelligence and determination were somehow  enough to bridge that gap; for a time.

The first set of breakup  and makeup  years,  she had been the one to overshadow him. Be it  fortune, notoriety, popularity...intelligence. It didn't matter.  She  was the money maker,  she  was the show stopper, people were waiting on   _her_  doorstep. Until one lucky fast pitch sent him into a whirlwind of late night autograph signings, endlessly paid bar tabs and complimentary alibis.

Having so much time to herself was a breath of fresh air at first, but when a  combination of  missed dates and suggestive  tabloid fodder began to  materialize,  Bulma was dropped vehemently from the upper hand.  And it didn't go without notice. So she began to make excuses for him.

It _would_   have looked bad for publicity after all  if he skipped out on a team social. It  _did_  make sense just to stay over night  instead of driving back tired. They   _could_  go to the movies anytime, but how often did he get to do a photo shoot in exchange for a well-known company's sponsorship? 

But missing a milestone birthday was not something Bulma could be domesticated into. And it wasn't until she  almost  accepted his apology did the light go off.

She had become  nothing more than the  poignant little monkey  serenaded into captivity by the elusive organ grinder. She did the work, he reaped the benefits. It was that simple. 

Letting go of someone she had  been intimate with almost half her  life was not something she was ever prepared to wake up and do, so she gave herself an ultimatum: one year. She would be patient, she would be honest and she would be understanding. And if that wasn't enough, well  her biological clock would reset Yamcha to the point of non-existence.

And by design,  that one year  coincided nicely  with the destruction of the G.R...and her annual get together.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ _"Doesn't it bother you, seeing him with other females?"  Vegeta asked without  discernible inflection. She put down her wine  glass on the table with an aggravated  assault and gave him a bitter glare._

_"No, we're not together anymore  and  I have no  interest in being with someone who doesn't want to be with me anyway, Vegeta."  She  punctuated his name as if it was a  disease. " And don't think this has anything to do with you either, my gag reflex couldn't handle it." She rolled her eyes and turned  away  as soon as the insult  left her tongue, but kept her guard up to catch any low flying daggers._

_"Denial doesn't look good on you." He grinned lazily as he loudly sat down a glass himself._

_The statement  was  suspended in the air as she tried to figure out which part he implied she was denying. The half-empty bottle on the counter deduced that it didn't really matter, but it did pique her interest as to the reasoning behind him drinking. She had never seen him drink alcohol before and a half of a bottle was nothing to  scoff at. Even so, he still seemed only mildly buzzed... and funny enough, mildly tolerable. But it was a party  after all, and  she had her own personal reasons for imbibing so she allowed him to have his._

_"Why are you in here anyway?" She decided not to take the bait. "All the foods outside."_

_"I'm not hungry. Why are you in here?"  he asked,  almost passing it  off for genuine interest._

_She picked up the half-empty bottle he had just filled his glass from and shook it in the air, identifying her reason for being inside._

_He looked at the bottle and then back at her. "Haven't you had enough.. drinking problems don't impress anyone." he crooned mockingly._

_"Argh!...I don't have a drinking problem!" The instant pitch in her voice hurting his ears. "I have a Vegeta probl-..."_

_"Hmph...Never mind." She said as she lowered her voice and intentionally cut her statement short. "Just go away."_

_"Come on now...We both know you don't want that.." He didn't even look at her. Instead, he downed another shot of is drink and let his tongue roll around in his mouth afterward._

_God how she just wanted to hit him in that instant. Kick and scream at him for calling her out. Burn him for every insult she ever took and for pointing out the obvious breed of electricity between them.  As if her night wasn't bad enough.  She had so much pent up anger and frustration and seeing everyone else around her enjoy themselves on her dime... It was maddening.  But he was right. They had been teasing and flirting and damaging each other for the last year. In fact, bringing it out into the open was the first time she realized how  comical the whole situation truly was.  And throw in the  fact  they would supposedly all be dead in  less than two years?_

_The severity of it just seemed so... over the top,  that all she could do was laugh. It  was even more self-serving because she knew Vegeta would mistake her laughter as a direct attack and she would be ready for it. But she wasn't. He countered with deliberate confusion  and his 'attack' came in the form of rippled brawn and deft motility._

_He closed the gap between them with two swift steps, yet kept enough  distance so his chest was just barely  ghosting her back. Her breath hitched momentarily when she felt the warmth emanating from him. She closed her eyes and imagined all the wrongdoings she had done in her life._

_Oh yes, she was definitely being punished for something._

_Having something so far out of reach yet so close was  beyond poetic justice. It was simply inhumane. Worse yet, she knew it had to be the alcohol. There was just no way in seven hells 'the prince of all Saiyans would lower his standards to be fluid bonded to weak, annoying, perverted, bitchy loudmouth'. Or so she imagined him saying._

_He let one finger glide up her exposed arm and rest with a grip on her shoulder. Merely  his touch caused her face to flush and her heart rate to increase, but  she quickly reminded herself his advances were nothing more than a mixture of inebriation and a biological imperative. But what about her? How long had it been since her biological needs were sated? At least long enough to push the slight embarrassment of a mid-fuck face and all the guilty  moans that came with it to the side and bust out her riding crop._

_One heated  palm played on her hip as he grabbed a bushel of hair and brought  it close  to his nose._

_"Your natural smell is much more agreeable. You shouldn't damage it with your chemical laden products."_

_"And how do you know what my 'natural smell' is?"  she withdrew between hushed moans as if their previous conversation was totally forgotten and any iota of anger she had faded._

_With her neck exposed, he ran his teeth just up to her hairline before giving her a playful nip._

_"Don't flatter yourself. My superior senses leave little to  the imagination." he whispered into her neck. The hot breath teasing the slick imminence growing between her legs as she caught onto the double meaning. Her stomach  caved slightly when he leaned closer to her, pushing her into the chair she had been supporting herself on. She had thought about it many, many times, but the hard length against the back of her thigh proved just how little credit she gave him due to his stature._

_But something animalistic was growing inside her and the need to fuck was heavily outweighing the need for playful banter or putting him in his place. She turned herself around and allowed the palm of his hand to  reside  in the small of her back. She locked eyes with him, sending him a message; she knew it for  what it was,  scientifically speaking. A detached natural response to a stimulating environment  and essentially...a one-time thing._

_He gave a  curt nod and turned her back around,  forcing her palms onto the table. She grunted in protest and tried to reacquaint herself with his face, but was pinned  to the table,  forward facing, by the front of his thighs against her backside._

_He growled dangerously low in her ear. "No. I want you to watch  them. Watch them while I fuck you and remember who's in control."_ _The last bit of sanity that was hanging on  tried to warn her what a bad idea this was. How this would only complicate her feelings further and she would ultimately be left in the same position she was in now, except with her clothes on and possibly more drastic consequences.  But  as he  raked  both his hands up and down the  hourglass  that served as her figure,  she  let desire  swallow her whole with total abandon._

_She grinded  her hips against his lap and let his neatly  exposed,  glistening member rub between her cheeks. She pursed her lips to  suppress  a whimper  but the unexpected  desire  to moan into his mouth  knocked her back to reality.  Here she was, about to engage in the  ultimate 'fuck you'  to all her friends and she didn't even know what his mouth  tasted like. She attempted to crane her neck, hoping to steal a kiss but was halted when the thin fabric covering her unwelcome celibacy was ripped away._

_With a  quick hike of her dress, the gates of passion were ripped from their hinges and she sank  into a pool of lust so deep, she could barely keep her head above water._

_In one swift motion, he pushed himself inside of her completely, gripping her hips and pulling them towards him. The lack of resistance didn't go unnoticed as he let out a small chuckle in her ear before pulling out again and attempting to find an  accommodating  tempo. Her hands stayed planted on the table to give more leverage as she arched her back, aligning him to her sweet spot._

_Mmm..Yes..yes.. Ah._

_Ahhhh. Ah...Don't..Don't stop..._

_The sound of music could be heard in the background,  somewhat  muffling the drivel  she was releasing in panting breaths._

_But with each thrust, she became more vocal. Each time the tip of his slick member pulled out too far, he played with  her by tapping it against  the base of her clit before sheathing it recklessly into her._

_"Don't tease me--AHHHHH. YES! YES!!"_

_"Ahhh..right there. Harder...Mfff.."_

_The in and out of their swollen parts was taking a toll on Bulma's voice, but she dared to let his name be the last thing that ever came out of her mouth. It  almost rolled off her tongue until she slapped her hand over her mouth forcefully, not wanting to alert anyone else to their ministrations. But just as soon as she tasted the salt from her fingers, a larger hand ripped it away and secured it to the table under his._

_"No. Let them hear you.."_

_He gripped the back of her neck, as he continued to thrust in and out of her with a squelching thrum, and forced her to look out the glass door. Her bleary eyes could barely make out silhouettes of people she knew walking by.  Some sick, depraved side of her almost did want someone to  catch her. Let them see how vengeful she could be. But her thoughts changed  as heavy pants became muffled cries.  Another part of her wanted the wry fingers gripping her neck to strangle the life out of her._

_She knew how terrible it was that she went there first, but she just couldn't fathom that there was  anything else to look forward to after this. The sex was just that good._

_She lifted herself up onto her toes to adjust the angle as she felt herself getting close to coming. She could feel the muscles spasming inside her as her vision  turned upside down and even more mindless prattle starting leaking from her mouth. She bit down on her arm to stifle the flurry of emotions that overtook her as her walls came crashing down. She reached behind her and gripped him just under his shoulder blade,  tearing the skin.  Without any regard for anyone but herself at that moment, she didn't even realize she was the only one who came._

_He let her come down from her cloud briefly before pulling out and spinning her around.  He lifted her shaking legs and sat her up on the table,  face to face. Still panting heavily, she  reached out a hand and touched his  surprisingly flushed but content looking face and noticed for the first time that he was completely naked while she was still wearing her dress. She lifted herself  off the table slightly and tugged the dress over her head. She turned her neck and looked behind her at the shadows walking by, but  this time she took control._

_"Let them see.." she let drip out her  mouth like syrup._

_With nothing to lose, she leaned forward and closed the gap between their lips, realizing what a fool she was  thinking he was only good for one thing..._

_But reading too much into the kiss that would be seared into her memory permanently wasn't something she needed to do right now. He  held up his end of the deal, so would she. She hopped off the table and placed her hands on his chest, grazing her fingers down his torso. vShe felt him jerk suddenly when she went too low  and laughed a little  on the inside realizing he was  ticklish. She descended to her knees in front of him but lost all  possession  when he took control again._

_The taste of herself being forced into her mouth by his weeping head was beyond enthralling. She knew she wasn't delicate, but relinquishing control to a someone  so unabashedly  evil  was a new plane  of intoxication. She could feel the small welt forming in the back of her throat as he forced himself harder with each thrust, and her stomach fluttering a bit knowing the pitted skin  would  prove this wasn't an ironic dream._

_Irritatingly to her, he must've had some experience though.  He seemed to know just how many times he could go to the hilt before it would irritate her gag reflex. But she tried not to think about it. Instead, she focused on reading him and his body language.  She tried not to make eye contact, not knowing how he would respond, but the expression on his face wasn't something that  could  be left alone. He was still a little flushed from earlier but his brow was somehow less furrowed. Or maybe it was just furrowed with contentment instead of irritation. Either way, when their eyes did meet, he didn't pull away._

_She was surprised when he began slowly his thrusts down,  allowing  her to take over. Especially because once she started hooking her tongue with each motion, sensual growls  began emanating deep from his chest. But she could feel his skin getting tighter and him getting harder. She didn't expect a  courtesy tap so she did what she knew no man would deny._

_"Do you want to come  on my face?"_

_She could see the contemplation deep in his  eyes , so she made another offer. "Don't worry,  I'll do all the work.  You just enjoy it."_

_With that, she grabbed his throbbing cock and began stroking it, first with one hand and then with two. She began moving up and down his shaft in alternating  patterns with each hand, enjoying the moans she was eliciting. She licked the tip of it, stringing a little bit of  precum between her lips and his member. But instead of licking it away, she opened her mouth and began  pumping harder. His demeanor changed visibly at this and she saw his mouth slightly open before he grabbed the chair behind him and let out an exasperated roar._

_Copious  amounts of salty, white fluid ran down her cheeks  and her chin. It dripped across her breasts, slid down her belly and started to pool in her lap. She didn't wipe it away immediately. Instead, they both honored a moment of silence before he uncharacteristically got her a towel. She started wiping it off her face first and then wrapped it around herself before getting up to go to the shower. She debated asking him to join her but when she turned around to where he was standing, all the color drained out of her face._

_It had to of been written  in the stars that he would be  the one to catch her. But 'catch' wasn't the right word. She wasn't guilty of anything. He had brought a date anyway so  what did it matter? The only wrongdoing she committed was the mismatch lanterns and tablecloths. But the confusion and hurt that nestled into his features painted a different picture..._

_Still tacky with shame, she began dressing, irritated that he was still standing nearby, but frustrated that Vegeta was nowhere to be found._

_When  she stepped outside, Yamcha broke the  silence first. "We are  going to take a group picture so I came to find you..."_

_"...Lucky me."  He snapped with sarcasm and disdain as he threw his hands up in defeat._

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  

Setting her phone on the rail, she eased  up on the balcony carefully, letting her legs dangle against the ambient  balusters.  She let out a small, discouraging  chuckle as the gravity of the situation registered. 

She was a jerk. And she was alone. 

But at least there was no more need for unrealistic daydreaming or pretending everything is fine just to be praying on the inside things are going to be different.  It was  her. And it was going to be  _just her_. 

"Your  gamut of  emotions is  disturbing   my sleep."

Bulma cursed the moon's absence  as she lost her balance and toppled forward onto her balcony. "Fuck Vegeta! How long were you there for? And what's the big idea, you jerk? I could have fallen backward and it's not like your ass would have saved me!  Geez." She picked herself up and rubbed her leg where she landed on it. "This better not leave a mark either!" she snarled.

"I told you, you're keeping me from my sleep and by the looks of it, you could use your beauty sleep as well.." a dirty grin appeared on his face. 

She rolled her eyes. "How am I keeping you from sleep, Prima Donna?"

"I can feel all the different energies you're putting off. Your ki, unsubstantial as it is, is bouncing off all the walls in this wing and the fluctuations are keeping me awake." His expressionless face didn't tell any other stories, so she took it to mean the gospel.

"Whatever. Anyway, I'm going back to bed now, so get lost." She was content with the way she handled herself. Not faltering to a bronzed, shirtless physique or giving herself any hope that his visit  was more than just a business trip. It really was just her, and that was enough. She smiled to herself as she turned around and headed for her doors, quite proud for  standing her ground.

"You need to shower too. I can smell you from my room. It's quite disgusting."  Oh, how the sardonic tone he used just  burned her up inside. But she refused to stoop.

"And what were you thinking about while you were looking at that picture?  I can smell your wetness from over here..." That  was the worm that hooked her and the change in her ki was almost palpable.

"How do you know what I was looking at?!  How long  were  you there for? And  why?! You must have been there long enough to see what I was looking at. What difference does it make to you anyway?! Ugh, and why are you smelling me?! That's so gross. Fuck.. just.. just go away.."

It was truly amazing how someone so devoted to sentience spit embers that dared the strongest alloy to churn in their wake. 

She plodded hastily towards her room only to be denied access by a very haughty looking Saiyan. She tilted her head up just a little, prepared  to put him in his place, but when his eyes bored into hers, all the previous memories of that night came flooding back and washed her out to sea. Her muscles  contracted under anticipation  and effectively pinned her under his scrutiny. 

Why did he have to be so god damn attractive? And it wasn't just his looks. His intensity, his commanding presence,  his overconfidence. Everything. He  was the  culmination of unattainability. And she hated being told 'No'.

She  closed  her eyes and imagined willing him away but the piercing glare forced  the voice out of her instead.

"Look, whatever your psychological endgame is, I'm not interested."  She kept eye contact but maintained a poker face.

"No endgame."

Her heart skipped a beat as he grabbed her wrist and began rubbing his thumb over her pulse. "I'm just not very tired anymore.."

A thousand questions went  through her mind as the statement hung in the air. The lines she was trying to read between were so blurry and she  knew what had transpired before was nothing more than a fleeting moment of unreserved shame and happenstance. But as the pin-drop moments passed, the  piercing glare in his eyes seemed to slowly morph into something more akin to boyish charm.

He gave her wrist a quick squeeze "Wasn't there something you wanted from me?"

"I-Uh..Wanted?  What did I wan-.."

His lips smashed into hers and once again she was pulled under the rapid harmony of dangerous waters. But this time she could enjoy his perfect lips for what they  were,  the cool side of the pillow. Something you wake up in the middle of the night and look forward to. Comforting and familiar, but not anything  to be taken advantage of. She let him suck and nibble on her bottom lip as she mewled into his mouth. His hands exploring under her nightgown.

She hesitated to wrap her arms around him, worried it would challenge his control,  but ultimately decided to go with it. If it didn't work in her favor, so be it. There will be another tomorrow. As her forearms crossed behind his head, the brush up  against his feathery mane sent an electric chill down her spine. She let out a soft  moan as the  phallic protrusion in his sweatpants rubbed the front of her thigh. She bit her lip and leaned herself back from him, dropping to her knees.

But then something unforeseen happened.

His hand gripped her forearm and pulled her back up against him. He brushed the hair away from her ear and whispered  almost  affectionately. "We've already done that, I want to try something different.." Had he not already made it clear otherwise, the warm breath against her skin would've had her on her knees in an instant.

She swallowed hard as he turned her around and pushed away  the straps of her gown. With a tiny billow of air, the gown dropped and all that remained were heated  undergarments.  Remembering the fate of their predecessor, she quickly discarded them herself but kept her back to him.  He ran his hands up and down her thighs, feeding into her sexual frustration. She lolled her head as all the thoughts that plagued her  now weightless mind evacuated. One of his hands reached for hers and he guided it to the turgid resolve between her legs, ushering  in a rhythmic pattern of rehearsed perversion. 

She felt no shame in touching herself. It was almost...liberating. She might have been using Vegeta as inspiration but a wave  of independence took over knowing the pleasure she was  bringing to herself.

That is until she felt firm forearms graze her inner thighs.  

With a quick jolt, she  suddenly went weightless and much more exposed than  before. Feeling unbalanced, she leaned  against his chest and tried to locate all her extremities, making sure none were casualties in performing such  a contorting  position. Her silken shoulder blades married into corded muscles stretched across a taut, tan canvas while her lower back rode the 'V' of his abdomen.

When  both his hands found security under  her knees and pulled them up,  revealing her most intimate affairs, she immediately stopped maneuvering her hand  and became paralyzed. He let out a warm chuckle at the absence of her self-pleasure and pushed the hair away from her ear with his nose.

"You're going to want to keep doing that...

...lest this next part be uncomfortable for you..".

....

...

..

Every nerve in her body and  every synapse in her brain fired with unbridled mania as his distended tip slid past her dripping maw and took residence at the puckered opening  between her cheeks. 

All she could do was let out an embellished moan as he pushed through the ring of tight muscles. Her heart pounded in her throat, silencing any conceivable thoughts she had as each  hair stood on end, riddled with frenzied electricity.

She felt him stop just as his head made it through the first increment and she took that as a sign he was checking on her. There was a long moment of conflict as she debated telling him the truth, that it was much more  uncomfortable  than  she imagined, but instead gave him a sensual whimper, encouraging him to continue. Truthfully, it felt almost wrong. Like she was doing a disservice to herself. It just seemed so unnatural. But something about committing herself to him in a way that involved trust  was enough to push past the momentary discomfort. Maybe it was her way of letting him in...and vice versa.

As he continued forward, the slight burning sensation dissipated and slowly he was able to adopt a compliant cadence. Each thrust was a little harder and she could feel him  hitting her G-spot, just on the opposite side of the delicate internal tissue. 

"Hmm.. Mph..G..Go a little faster. I can feel it better when you go all the way in.."

"Greedy aren't we? You'll take what I give you.." 

She ignored what he said.  "Ahh..Ah..bite..bite my neck while you do that.. but don't pull  out too far.." 

Barking commands was only making him harder and he  debated briefly of letting go of her legs and seeing how durable she really was. The idea of solely her bouncing on his engorged cock only making him increase his pace. He pushed the thought aside and clamped down tightly onto the intersection of her neck and shoulder. 

As if her scent wasn't potent enough, the taste of her on his tongue stretched him to his limit as he felt his imminence on the horizon.  He could tell that he was enjoying it more than she was but  he didn't want the diminishing supply of  natural lubricant to force her into pain, so he began to slow down.

She didn't feel indebted  or like she needed to return a favor, but he had put her needs first last time and she knew she most likely wouldn’t get off, at least not for a while. She took the decrease in his pace as a somewhat endearing and decided to let him have this one.

"It's ok..I want you to come.."

She could feel a warm sensation flooding her tight channel as he let go of her legs and buried a rolling growl into her neck.  He continued pounding into her, slowing with each thrust, as small clumps of DNA begin dripping down her cheeks. Back on her feet, she could feel his possessive hands around her waist as his slick forehead leaned against her shoulder blade and his strokes came to a halt. She lurched forward slightly to release him and without hesitation, turned around and drove her lips into his...

Comforting and familiar, but not anything to be taken advantage of.

____________ ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________    

She had forgotten how many clothes she must've purchased for him since his residency but was considering never shopping again with the amount of folding she was doing. She giggled to herself and  scratched the  thought when she realized the magnitude of her claim and the affinity she had for frivolously spending money.

Not feeling like dealing with the backlash of being caught in his room, she dropped the two neat piles onto his bed, turning her nose up at the idea of putting them away herself. Examining her surroundings, she noticed how even his room was enigmatic. Nothing indicative of any solid interests or insight into...anything really. Just a  few generic books, one pillow, one sheet, one solid wood nightst--

"What the hell..?"

Bulma pulled the already half open drawer of the nightstand all the way out after something incriminating caught her eye. 

It was a book. 

A book with a very suggestively posed alien on the cover and the words 'Space Kamasutra' in  holographic, silver letters...

**Author's Note:**

> Guys...I have been a jerk. I know it. I know I have. I was supposed to get a sooner update for TWEW, but I sort of got sidetracked...*nervously sweats. I really really wanted to get this art inspired one shot out for a few reasons though and I stand by them. Now, with that being said, I will be putting my nose to the grindstone for chapt 4 of TWEW and try to get it out ASAP. But in the meantime, I hope you guys enjoyed this raunchy beast!! Reviews (of any kind) and kudos are much appreciated. ENJOY <3  
> _______________________________________
> 
> https://hannabelllecter.tumblr.com/post/170747902663/day-1-for-tpthvegebulsmutfest-the-butterfly
> 
> https://hannabelllecter.deviantart.com/art/Vegebul-Smutfest-Entry-Spring-2018-730324484


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